


Before the Fall

by oldandnewfirm



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-16
Updated: 2012-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-29 15:59:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldandnewfirm/pseuds/oldandnewfirm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the curse draws ever nearer, Red can't seem to keep herself away from Rumplestiltskin's prison. Written for a prompt on the kinkmeme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before the Fall

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in the same time/storyline as my other work "Estate," though it can be read as a standalone story.

The dwarves no longer stopped her at the prison gate. That, more than anything, told Amarantha that this had been going on for far too long.

His voice reached her before she’d even neared the antechamber leading to his cell.  “You’re back, dearie.”

She winced. “I am.”

Rumplestiltskin’s cell was set in a squat room at the end of the cave, lit by a lone torch whose light barely penetrated the gloom. Amarantha squinted into the darkness for some moments before she was finally able to make out Rumplestiltskin’s silhouette sitting against the back wall.

“Any progress today?” he asked.

She pulled back her hood and frowned. “You know there wasn’t.”

“Pity. I’m always happy to help, you know!”

There was a smile in his voice, the kind of smile that straddled the line between eager and crazed. Amarantha stopped shy of the bars and rested her hands on her hips.

“Everyone agrees that you’ve done enough helping.”

“Me? Oh, dearie, dearie, dear.” He clicked his tongue and rose to his feet with a series of loose, hinging movements that reminded Amarantha of one of Geppetto’s marionettes. As he spoke, he strolled to meet her at the bars. “You’re not still mad about the business with Prince Thomas, are you? All magic comes with a price. The fair princess and I made a deal, and she _broke it_. ”

At that he lunged forward, thrust his head through the bars, and bared his teeth inches from Amarantha’s face. She didn’t even flinch.

A note of pleading entered his voice. “You know I’m right, don’t you?”

“We’ve enough on our minds without the search for Thomas complicating things,” she said, without looking at him. “Ella’s been in a state for weeks, and she won’t be comforted.”

His smile flared to life once more, accompanied by a giggle pitched to make her ears ache.

“Such a bright girl. And as for the princess, well, she won’t have to worry much longer, will she?”

Amarantha’s hand rose to her breastbone and idly stroked the awkward lump of the wolf charm concealed beneath her cloak.

“The curse is almost here, then.”

He shrugged. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. I could tell you for a price.”

She shook her head. “What good would it do me? I’ve worries enough without knowing exactly when the end will come.”

“You’re afraid?”

He said it as though the concept had never occurred to him. Amarantha laughed, but it was a strangled sound.

“Aren’t you?” she said. “You stand to lose as much as the rest of us.”

“Me? Why, I’ll only be trading one cage for another. But you--” he twirled a finger at her. “Amarantha, chief messenger of the king. Amarantha, slayer of the Vargulf. You’ve come a long way from your days of skipping back and forth to your Granny’s hovel. What a shame it will be to see all that you’ve accomplished torn from you.”

The knot of fear that had been nesting in Amarantha’s belly these last few weeks tightened. _Breathe_ , she told herself, schooling her face to stoicism. But she didn’t manage it fast enough, judging by the sudden gleam in Rumplestiltskin’s eye.

“Of course,” he began in a honeyed tone, “It doesn’t have to be _so_ bad.”

 She crossed her arms. “What do you mean?”

“Perhaps we can come to some sort of…arrangement. To make your situation a little more tolerable when the time comes.”

“How?” she said. “You’re powerless against the curse. You said so yourself.”

“Did I?”

Amarantha started to answer, then trailed off. When Prince James and Princess Snow had related their conversation with Rumplestiltskin to the war council, they’d said that everyone—Rumplestiltskin included—would be subject to the curse’s effects. But that _wasn’t_ the same as being powerless, was it?

She narrowed her eyes. “What do you know?”

“Oh, many things,” he gestured dismissively. “But I’ve told you all I care to for free. Ha ha!”

She slapped the bars, then whirled on her heel and started pacing the floor.

“If I told James,” she said, “The only deal you’d be making is with his sword.”

“ _If_ you told him,” he agreed. “Which you won’t.”

She stopped. “Why wouldn’t I? I’m a servant of the Crown. More importantly, Snow and James are my friends. It’s my duty to tell them that you’re down here sitting smugly on your little pile of secrets.”

“You’re worried about Prince James? Oh Little Red,” he purred, “What would Prince James say if he knew that while he’s up there playing war, you’re down here playing with me?”

“I’m not playing,” she nearly spat, but the words died on her tongue. _After all_ , said a little voice in her head, _only once has official business brought you here. But the third time, and the fourth, and the twelfth…?_

Out loud she said, “You’re an ass.”

He laughed, and it was like no other sound she’d ever heard him make. It started in his chest and erupted warm and vibrant, without a trace of his usual reedy hiss. Briefly, Amarantha wondered if he’d been possessed.

The echoes of his laughter faded, but his smile didn’t.  And even that was strange somehow; his face had the dreamy cast of someone who’d fallen a little too deep in the cups.

He crooked a finger, beckoning her forward. She hesitated for a heartbeat before complying.

As soon as she was close enough his hand thrust out and caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Her arm flinched, ready to reel up and slap him away, but she willed herself still.

Long seconds passed, marked by a drip of water somewhere in the recesses of his cell. He was studying her face with an intensity she’d never thought him capable of. Her heart quickened; she was certain he could hear it.

“Perhaps not so little anymore,” he murmured finally. Then, he let her go.

“A pity there are bars between us, dearie.” He said as she tried to collect herself. “These little visits could be so much more…interesting.”

Her thighs flexed in the wake of a shiver of pleasure. Her lips parted, half in surprise and half in…

There were few responses to his barb that wouldn’t betray her further. So, she settled on the safest one of all.

“I have to go.”

He dipped his head briefly, then gestured to the hall from which she’d come. “Until we meet again.”

* * *

“Shall we expect another audience soon, Lady Red?” asked one of the dwarves when she returned her torch to him.

His tone was neutral, but there was a searching look in his eyes. Someone had finally asked after her, then. She was surprised it had taken this long; she’d already exhausted all viable excuses for these little excursions.

It was for the best.

“No,” she said. “I think not.”

Both guards bade her good evening. She rucked up her cloak in her hands and began climbing the path leading back to the main road.

In the distance, thunder rolled. Amarantha looked to the sky. _Clear as a mirror_.

The knot in her gut became a vice. She glanced back at the gate. It wasn’t too late…

 _Everyone has a choice_. It was one of his favorite sayings. _Just be sure you make the_ right _one._

She pressed a hand over her wolf charm—over her heart. Took a breath.

And kept walking.


End file.
